5 Things That Never Happened to Canon's Snape
by Darth Stitch
Summary: Five things that wouldn't happen to everyone's favorite Potions Master. Or maybe it would. Some slashy hints of HPSS and SSRL. COMPLETE.


**Five Things That Never Happened to Canon's Severus Snape**  
by Darth Stitch

**DISCLAIMER:** It's JKR's sandbox. Just borrowing her toys.

**WARNINGS: **Some slashy content -hints of Snape/Harry and Snape/Lupin. Out you go if this is not your cup of tea. Otherwise, put tongue firmly in cheek and leave canon at the door.

**NOTES: **Apparently, has a character limit on one's titles. (rolls eyes) So, the REAL title is what you see up there and not what you saw when you first clicked in here. Clear?

* * *

_Five_

Severus Snape walked straight up to the Dark Lord, who was gloating over his new-made Death Eaters, convinced of his invincibility and power. The Dark Lord looked at his young Potions Master, expecting the customary obeisances.

Severus made a deep bow with a grace and dignity hard-won from an awkward adolescence of clumsy limbs and constant graceless blundering.

And then he spoke in that low, velvety voice that had been transmuted from a once near-girlish soprano: "Bugger this and sod the lot of you. I _quit._"

_Four_

Severus Snape felt his knees turn to water at the sight of the werewolf before him.

He'd never really understood that phrase before, but he did now, as it slowly and purposely stalked towards him. Thoughts of using his wand, of speaking any spell to defend himself, even of _running_ had all fled screaming from his mind.

And then, the werewolf pounced.

The werewolf tilted its head to one side, regarding him with its oddly familiar golden eyes, even as a helpless Severus waited for it to tear his throat open.

But then, it gave him a friendly lick and nuzzle.

"Frankly, I rather expected my first kiss to be somewhat a little less wet, Remus," Severus told it breathlessly, even as recognition finally dawned.

The werewolf's tongue lolled out in a wolfish equivalent of a laugh.

_Three_

Severus Snape could never really say no to Lily Evans.

_Evans_ because he still found it hard to think of her as Mrs. James Potter - a shudder still went through him at the very notion. Frankly, she had abominable taste in men.

Still, it was remarkably hard to keep one's composure or wits when confronted with those bright green eyes, even if one was staunchly and completely queer.

And then, she had the audacity to present him with her and James' spawn.

Who was quite loudly demanding to be picked up. Severus was equally quite determined to resist - what did he know, after all, about babies?

But then, he made the mistake of looking into the infant's eyes, which were the same exact color as his mother's. And were just as accepting and devoid of judgement or contempt.

And Severus knew, as he picked the brat up and suffered his happy crowing and the sticky little fingers patting at his nose, that he was quite doomed.

_Two_

Severus Snape stared at his infuriating, know-it-all, Muggleborn Gryffindor classmate. "You're stark raving mad."

Lily Evans was looking at him in equal horror. "It's NOT my fault!"

They both looked down at the Tarot cards that she'd laid out for their Divinations assignment, in which Lily was supposed to be predicting Severus' future.

"I am NOT going to end up marrying _your_ brat, spawning three children with him and making you my mother in law!" Severus roared. At least, he tried to, which was difficult when one had a humiliatingly high, almost girlish voice. He was fervently looking forward to the day when he would finally grow out of _that._

Lily shuddered and then shook her finger at him. "Bloody child molester, you are. You'd damn better wait until he's legal or I'm hexing you into the next millennium, Severus Prince Snape!"

"Piss off, Evans," Severus snapped back, flushing.

"That's it," Lily said decisively. "Seer Gift or no, we're dropping Divinations."

_One_

Severus Snape was eleven years old and he was on the Hogwarts School Train for the very first time.

He was very worried about his mother and how she would be doing now that she was all alone with _him_, although he was quite glad to be out of that house and out of _his_ reach, at long last.

There were so many other wizard children and some of them looked very grand indeed while he looked very small and shabby. Never mind, he thought to himself. He was a Prince, after all, a Prince in disguise on a secret quest. He'd rather be a Prince than a Snape like his father, a Snape who yelled and hit and hurt and stank of whisky and stale beer.

He was far away from that now. Far from him. Far from his Mum.

He sniffled and wiped his nose on his sleeve. He would not cry, he _wouldn't._ He was _eleven_ now, even if he didn't quite look it, being quite small for his age. He wasn't a snivelling baby, he _wasn't_ - no matter what that Black boy said.

He wasn't _Snivellus_ - his name was _Severus_, a very proper name for a wizard, even if he was a half blood.

He sniffled again. And then looked up as someone offered him a kerchief.

It was that Potter boy. He glared. "Wasn't crying."

"'Course you weren't," said the Potter boy. "But you might want to wipe your face a bit. Don't mind Sirius. He's a bit of an arse at times, but he's all right."

"Thanks," Severus said grudgingly, taking the kerchief and blowing quite loudly into it.

"Keep it," said the Potter boy, nose crinkling in amusement and bright green eyes sparkling. "You're welcome - Severus, wasn't it?"

"At least one of you has a pair of ears that work properly," Severus sniffed.

"You're funny. My name's Harry," He smiled.

To both their surprise, Severus found himself smiling back.

- end -


End file.
